The Train Ride Home
by angelheaded-revolutionist16
Summary: "The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories that it has come to be disbelieved. Few people daresay nowadays that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet that is the way love begins, and only that way." Victor Hugo inspired by an advert i just watched, hope you enjoy :)


_**a/n: i thought i'd write one more fic. this was actually based on a train advert i just watched and i thought it was so freaking adorable. so here you are...**_

_**Disclaimer: Victor Hugo owns a bunch of stuff, including the characters of les mis.**_

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The Train Ride Home

BLOOD ORANGE

The train station was loud and suffocating and busy. The clickity-clacking of shoes and stilletos on the floor, the shouting and crying kids in the waiting area, the salesladies and salesmen trying to sell whatever they had to sell, the rude customers at cafes and restaurants who are shouting at their waitress, the annoying Christmas song blasting through some speakers and the voices on the speaker telling everybody when to board and when to get out and when to come and when to leave, everything and everybody was loud and busy and possibly suffocating. Suffocated by the pressure of next week's thing or suffocated by the horrid reality of life or suffocated with the tiring everyday or just literally suffocating because the train station smelled of tacky air refresheners and cheap perfumes and shitty deodorants with just a hint of compressed body odour. The train station was filled with people wearing their winter coats and jackets, they are wrapped in scarves and gloves and beanies, peoples' cheeks were red and their noses were blood orange, everyone noticed it was winter and everyone knew it was morning of Christmas eve. There is also an endless array of shops and stalls selling different Christmas themed gifts or provides last minute shopping extravaganza. The cafes and the shops that surrounds the huge thunderdome of color and lights and train sounds are all decorated with green or red or white or silver Christmas decorations. Every now and then someone will bump into someone and someone will shout at someone and someone will just walk it off, but amidst all this nonsense and all this noise, there is a beautiful Christmas tree in the middle of the train station. The tree shines brightly with different colours and decorated with different ornaments; gold and red and green Christmas balls hanged in the most gorgeous way, the green tree looked alive and the star on top makes every other Christmas star self-conscious. Yes, the place was beautiful.

But this story is not going to focus on the Christmas tree or the train station or the green balls and the red ornaments or even that guy sleeping, without his shirt on, in the middle of the station. No, this story will focus on the man sitting in the waiting area with a large cup of coffee that he just bought and a book in hand, wearing a suit and a black tie, with him was a briefcase containing papers that are of no importance to this story (just like the introduction). This story is about him, and a girl, but mostly about him. This story is about boy meets girl but not really, it's more of 'boy fantasizes about girl'. Now, the question in your mind might be: 'WHO IS THIS GUY AND WHERE THE FUCK IS THIS STORY GOING?', this 'guy' was part of group of friends who were pretty kick-ass and as to 'where the fuck is this story going?', this story is going somewhere, trust me. Another question pops into your mind, 'What's this guy's name?' His name was Combeferre

He took a sip of his coffee and set it down on the seat next to him, along with his briefcase, he set the book down on his lap and looked around. On the corner of his eye he saw something red, it attracted him and he didn't know why, there were about twenty or thirty people wearing something red in the station and yet that particular red caught his attention. He tried to catch the moving colour but he was too slow, so he grabbed his book again and scanned the words, not really reading them, the color was still in his mind. Then, after a couple of seconds, there it was again and then it was gone and then a voice perked up from somewhere, it was almost a whisper but he heard it, the place was so noisy and loud but he heard it. He was so sure and positive that that voice belonged to the person wearing that colour red, so he stood up and looked around but then it was gone again. Just as he was about to sit down, the voice from the speakers started to speak,

"TRAIN TO PARIS GARE DU NORD NOW BOARDING ON PLATFORM 9" "ALL PASSENGERS GOING TO PARIS GARE DU NORD FROM LONDON ST. PANCRAS INTERNATIONAL CAN NOW BOARD TRAIN 6 ON PLATFORM 9"

So he walked to Platform 9 and dismissed the image of that evasive colour red or the person who wore it or the voice of that person, he walked to Platform 9 thinking that he might never see that shade of red ever again or that he would never meet whoever owned it, he walked to Platform 9 telling himself that he'd forget it sooner or later.

The silver train seemed to wait for him, its doors open wide and the soft humming of the engine sounded like a lullaby. As he was about to step in, he heard something, he heard a name of some sort. It sounded old and beautiful, it sounded romantic and tragic, it sounded familiar and strange at the same time, he turned around.

"Éponine!" A female voice from afar cried out the second time, her blonde hair looked soft and her porcelain skin looked beautiful. Then there it was again, the shade of red, only this time, he didn't just catch a glance or a short flash from the corner of his eye, this time, the shade of red was standing still, a couple of steps away but it was there. He couldn't see the owner's face, her back facing him, her dark, brunette hair fell against her back and then for a split second she looked to the side and he saw half of her face. And he was delighted, he felt as if he just solved the biggest mystery in the world.

"Éponine." He whispered to himself. He was in awe and he was somewhat excited and relieved, it was a strange feeling, he didn't know what it was. Curiosity, he was merely curious of the shade of red and who wore that shade of red, of course! Yes, that was it, curiosity.

"Sir." The conductor blinked in front of him, 'Fantine' was written on her I.D and she smiled at him. "Are you coming in or not."

"Yes. Yes I am."

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_**THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING. I DONT KNOW HOW MANY CHAPTERS OR HOW FAR THIS STORY WILL GO BUT WE'LL SEE.**_

_**THANKS SO MUCH**_

_**-GEORGETTE-**_


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